The Most Dangerous Game: Prelude
by Obscure Storm
Summary: I'm not certain where thos one should go, so here it will stay. Another former English project. If you don't recognize the story, re-read your freshman lit. book. Please R/R. It is an early work. If you don't like it, check out my other story.


Disclaimer: Quite obviously not mine. If it were, would I publish it on fanfiction.net? I don't believe so.  
The Most Dangerous Game: Prelude  
  
The fog crept mercilessly along the ground, devouring everything in its path. My quarry left a trail that a blind man could read. Even in this pitiful light it was obvious that there would be no need to use effort to find him. Ah, there he sits! Behind a small bush, acting like this is some childish game of 'hide and seek'.  
*** "Another clean kill, Ivan," I gloated. Ivan nodded in his own half-witted way, as he threw the burlap sack into a corner. The corpse had reached it's final resting place, the "Death Swamp". A wind was picking up. "Looks as if we might have some new pupils tonight. I have been waiting for providence to provide me with new quarry. These Spanish are easy to track. Wouldn't you think?" I smugly asked him. Taking another sip from the cut-crystal glass in my hand. Almost getting lost in the amber colour, my head swooned. "Why do I even try to talk to you, you can't hear me. That's why I chose you, if you ever leave, you will not be able to tell of all the 'horror' that went on here," evidently all the sherry that I had had was going to my head. But it was excellent. Well worth my palate. Light, and delicate. Just the way it was supposed to be. I suppose that I should go and teach my new pupils their lessons. I staggered to the cellar door, Ivan not far behind. He grasped my arm to keep me from collapsing. In his own language, he pointed at me and then to the ceiling. I laughed in his face. The little half-wit was telling me to rest. It was touching that someone so dumb could feel such compassion. That must be the dreaded human nature coming out in him. Even after my training him. He will flog the quarry ruthlessly, then weep like a lost child afterwards. I believe the only reason I keep him around is the fact that he is absolutely devoted. A protector of his Master. He was right though, he always was. I turned, might as well wait. The animals would be there in the morning. I'll let them think I forgot about them. But they will find out just what I want to do with them tomorrow.  
*** Screams filled the air. The glorious sound of pain. It seems that this little rat was going to do just fine in the hunt. Thin, but that will not make any difference, he will die just as the others did. I never lose in my own game. I make sure of it. Dust fills the cellar. Floating on the air, invading every space and making it its own. The afternoon sun slanted through the open vent in the ceiling, throwing the light on the iron collars lining the dank wallsm along with those chosen for the humts. If they survived the training. "Tonight, one of you will be able to ewarn your freedom. Who shall offer their hide to the island?" I sneered at them. "I will sir," a young dog stood up as far as his chain would allow. "Will you," I taunted him," do you think you can survive the island?" "I think I can," the slave mumbled. "We shall see," I spat at him,"If no one else offers. Then you will be set free at sunset. If you survive three days, then you will be taken back to the mainland. If not someone else will get a chance to earn their freedom." Ivan closed the vent. The air was thick with the smell of the fear clinging to the men. "Why does Master hunt them?" Ivan thought," They did nothing to Master. They didn't kill Master's family, of hurt Master in any way."  
*** |*| A loud bell echoed through the cellar. Ivan felt the vibration. Ivan had to go and protect Master, someone was outside. Ivan opened the heavy oaken door. Ivan had his pistol ready. If anyone decided they wanted Master, they would be rented through with a couple of bullets. A young man stood outside the door. He looked innocent enough. Ivan cocked the pistol. The young man held up his hands as if to say,'Stop!'. Master came up behind Ivan. Master was using the special tone. That menat Master was talking about Ivan.  
*** I recognized him immediately. It was the cunning hunter, Rainsford. The books I had about his hunts were enough to tell me all I needed to know about this man. He would do well in the hunt. Providence had finally smiled down on me.  
  
|*| Denotes Ivan's p.o.v.  
  
Author's Notes: It's my earliest work from this year. So be gentle. If you don't really like it tell me. If you do, again, tell me. I'm always happy to recieve reviews. Because, it's when they stop talking about you that you should be worried. 


End file.
